Pilgrims Due
by Kevlar
Summary: Pilgram and a wisp


Pilgrim ducked his head low over that of his steed as he rode out of the stable

Pilgrim ducked his head low over that of his steed as he rode out of the stable, perhaps he should have led it from the cramped confines, but as always hindsight saw clearer than his own eyes ever did.  
  
Out in the fresh air he indulged in a stretch and took the opportunity to admire himself, a habit that he never tired of.  
  
Clad head to toe in newly forged Shadow chain mail, a hefty long spear couched in his stirrup like a lance and a cloak of darkest velvet hanging from his shoulders, he thought he looked the very image of a stern warrior. Even his steed was of the darkest hue, an impressive beast standing seventeen hands high it was obviously a warhorse through and through.  
  
So out of town he road, enjoying the way the townspeople gave him a wide berth. At last the respect due him was being given. All it had taken was a loan of gold from a relative to pay for his current armament to renew his image. Years of fighting had honed his skills yet never did money seem to fall his way, always he was clad in mismatched pieces of armour and never had he travelled anywhere except under his own power. As a result people had always considered him one of the lowest sort, unworthy of any respect or even notice.  
  
His confidence renewed in himself, the world at his feet on he rode, determined that his life would be different from now on. As soon as he had repaid his debt that was, then he would start to get was his due.  
  
The town was but a distant speck over his shoulder when he first heard the noise, a chiming sound that was almost but not quite beyond the range of his hearing. Nevertheless the sound tugged at a chord within him, as faint as it was he could no more have ignored it than he could have ignored water in a desert.  
  
Leaving the road he urged his horse through the undergrowth, the sound pulling him on, not luring but rather entreating him forwards.  
  
Many minutes passed as he searched for the source of the sound, until at last his eyes caught a speck of blue light in the distance. With a certainty born of as much hope as anything else he spurred his horse to greater speed.  
  
The trees thinned and Pilgrim found himself in a clearing facing a glowing ball of light that was pulsing in time to the unearthly chimes that had such an effect on the warrior.  
  
How many minutes he sat there upon his horse before the orc's attacked he could not have said, but his normally alert senses had not heard there approach till they attacked from the four points of a compass.  
  
Despite his surprise, and the awkwardness he felt fighting from horseback, the first two assailants fell to the point of his spear in short order. Things took a turn to for the worse however when the orc attacking from the rear seized hold of his heavy cloak and yanked with its not inconsiderable strength.  
  
Pilgrim found himself falling backwards from his steed accompanied by a ripping sound as the orcs' tough claws shredded the thick material.  
  
One of the things that Pilgrim was eternally for was his innate agility that had saved him in many an encounter; even as he fell he twisted in the air and thrust with his spear. The orc floundering in the tattered remnants of a very expensive cloak died without drawing his targets blood.  
  
The last orc came forward at a rush, rounding the bulk of the horse however cost it time and Pilgrim was ready for its approach and dispatched it with ease.  
  
Looking at the orc at his feet, Pilgrim cursed the loss of his cloak. It had been a fine piece of workmanship but now was only so much torn cloth. A glance at the orc beneath the cloak however sparked his interest, at its belt hung a heavy pouch far larger than he had ever seen a brutish orc carry. A quick nudge with his toe and he heard the distinctive sound of metal hitting metal.  
  
Moments later and four pouches were in his possession, the contents of one was enough to buy three cloaks of the quality he had just lost and all four contained a similar amount. A fair trade in anyone's book and more than fair to Pilgrim's way of thinking as he placed the pouches in his pack and left the cloak across the orcs corpse.  
  
Placing his foot he once more mounted his horse, in front of him the blue sphere still floated in the air. The chimes he had barely heard before were stronger now and imparted to him a sense of reassurance. Without a doubt he knew this glowing creature had drawn him to these strangely wealthy orcs for his own benefit, his time had come round and the spirits were seeing to it that he got his due.  
  
The spirit, or so Pilgrim had decided it was, started drifting away to the north, deeper into the undergrowth. Pilgrim felt a pang at its departure but feeling the comforting weight of gold in his pack made him feel slightly better. He would replace his cloak with a finer one and still have enough left to pay of a little bit of his loan, well maybe the loan would wait, a man deserved some pleasure from his wealth after all.  
  
All thought of gold fled, when the spirit stopped floating away and once more rang the chimes that had seemed to impart meaning to the spearman.  
  
"**I will follow**," the words left Pilgrims mouth before he realised he was about to speak, so deep felt was the desire to be near the azure glow of the creature.  
  
For many days Pilgrim followed the orb of light, stopping only to rest his horse or to grab a few moments sleep on the hard ground. Every time he closed his eyes his sleep was fitful and broken, his fear that the orb would be gone when he awoke reduced him to sleep only when exhaustion overcame him.  
  
The forest gave way to grassland, the grassland to open scrub, which in itself soon degraded into desert. The sun beat down on the warriors black armour, which absorbed every scrap of heat and soon was almost burning to the touch. Pilgrim was a hardy man though a descendant of hardy men. Refusing to allow himself to be beaten by the heat he focused his attention on a smaller ball of light, but one that seemed to him no less intense.  
  
Step after step he forced his mount onwards until he realised the spirit he was following had stopped, beneath its glowing form a cave was apparent, reassessing that Pilgrim realised cave was the wrong word. A hole in the ground was all the description it merited.  
  
But from this hole a skittering sound could be heard, a sound Pilgrim had heard before, this not being his first trip into the desert in his life of soldiery. Scorpions as big as his horse would soon be issuing from their nest, this Pilgrim new as a fact.  
  
A point hard learned from his last combat was that he was no cavalry soldier, a horse was a fine source of transport, but when it came to fighting Pilgrim was a natural infantryman.  
  
Quickly dismounting he swung his spear to the ready and awaited the attack that was imminent. He was not forced to wait long; from the hole too many scorpions to count at first glance came forward, claws clashing and tails dripping venom.  
  
Slapping his horse on the flank to move it away Pilgrim went forward to the attack, realising his best tactic was to keep many monsters trapped in the hole behind their brethren to reduce the number of foes he had to face at any one time down to as few as possible.  
  
The fight to an observer would have looked like a strange dance as Pilgrim pirouetted and spun to avoid the huge claws and fearsome stingers of his chitin armoured partners. At times he wasn't fast enough and a grunt of pain would issue from him, and he would be forced to lose ground.  
  
But no one had ever said that Pilgrim lacked combat ability, for every step he was forced to retreat at least two scorpions took the step into the next world. Their numbers were soon reduced enough that Pilgrim knew that he was going to survive the encounter and he let himself be driven backwards rather than risk being hit and poisoned by one of the beasts.  
  
This move he soon regretted however as one of the scorpions took a moment away from trying to impale Pilgrim on its stinger and focused on Pilgrim's horse. The horse which had been too tired to move when Pilgrim had struck it's flank, its endurance gone, broiled out of it by the desert sun; stood unmoving as the scorpions claw encircled its throat and spilled it's blood on the sand.  
  
The scorpion's blood was soon soaking the sand too when Pilgrims spear pinned it to the floor, the last of the nests occupants. Looking down at the corpse of his horse Pilgrim didn't know whether to feel sorry for it or angry at it for letting him down. It had cost him a small fortune, a sum he could no longer afford, even with the money he had gained from the orcs.  
  
Behind him the Blue Creature let out a chime that returned Pilgrim's attention to the spirit. It still hovered above the hole, a feeling of certainty and an almost savage glee swept Pilgrim's mind and he ran and jumped into the hole.  
  
A small tunnel led down a short way into a larger cavern, the area the scorpions had set up as their nest. Littering the floor were the skeletal remains of many unfortunate travellers who had ventured this way before Pilgrim. A short but gruesome hour later Pilgrim had collected the valuables from the corpses.  
  
In three sacks he now had a small fortune in gold and gems, enough to buy several horses, and to clear his loan besides. Life was good.  
  
Climbing out from the hole was no easy task burdened as he was with so much extra weight, but the grin never left his face as he climbed. His future prosperity was secure.  
  
Once out of the hole he scanned the horizon trying to figure what the quickest way from the desert would be, not knowing what lay in any other direction he decided to retrace his steps back where he had come from.  
  
He had barely begun his first step when the spirit chimed, louder than it ever had before, turning round he saw it drifting away to the north, after a couple of feet it paused and repeated its plea, for plea it was of that Pilgrim was sure.  
  
"**I will follow**," his feet had begun to carry him to the north even as the words left his mouth.  
  
Deeper into the desert he walked, two things kept him going, his incredible well of endurance but more importantly his desire to please the cerulean creature that had taken upon itself to see to Pilgrims future.  
  
Pilgrim never noticed when the desert sands were left behind and that he now walked on rock, he never noticed when the air became colder as the desert was left behind and he started to ascend into more mountainous terrain.  
  
The first thing he became aware of was when the creature seemed to glow more intensely, it was in contrast to the darkness which now surrounded him, glancing behind him he could see the cave entrance through which he had entered, the sun making it into a golden archway.  
  
For an instant as his gaze left the creature and drank in the sunlight, the urge to turn completely around came over him, to return to the sunlight away from the coldness of the cave. Even as the thought occurred to him however the cave wall shifted and a fist of stone crunched into his side, his vision blurred with pain and he felt some of the links of his armour drive through the flesh below his ribs.  
  
In the close confines of the cave Pilgrims agility availed him little, for every blow he avoided another crashed into his torso. Despite the punishment he was receiving however Pilgrims instincts remained, time and again his arm flashed out and chunks of rock and stone flew from his earthy foe with every strike. The earth elemental didn't avoid a single strike and Pilgrims arm though not as strong as that of the elemental was strong enough to take its toll.  
  
As Pilgrim felt one of his ribs break, he also felt his spear bite through his foes skull and exit the other side. The elemental crumbled into so much gravel, Pilgrim crumpled to the floor, his face awash with blood and sweat. His body was a mass of bruises and pain. His armour was a ruin, most of it hung in tatters about him, but some was embedded into his skin, blood leaking around where metal tried to be flesh.  
  
It cost him a lot of skin and effort but eventually he managed to part company with the finely crafted piece that was now just scrap metal.  
  
As he lay there vainly trying to recover Pilgrim noticed something glitter amongst the remains of the elemental. Reaching towards it elicited another gasp from him but pain was now a familiar acquaintance. The pain was worth it, was the thought that crossed his mind a moment later as he held a diamond the size of his clenched fist. Stirring the remains of the elemental with the butt of his spear soon proved the diamond was not an only child. Enough of the most valuable of gemstones lay at Pilgrims feet to keep him living an extravagant lifestyle should he live ten lifetimes. He could afford to buy a castle and live happy to his dying day surrounded by servants.  
  
Collecting his treasure took more time than he would have believed; every movement hurt more than he had ever been hurt before. But perseverance paid off, discarding the gold he had earned from the orcs, and the treasure from the scorpions nest was an easy decision, he loaded his pack up with all the diamonds. Standing whilst wearing the pack was almost beyond his ability but stand he did.  
  
For several minutes Pilgrim stood there, unwilling to frame the thought in his mind to leave. A certainty as heavy as the mountain in which he now stood had occurred to him as he packed the pack.  
  
A certainty that proved true as soon as he turned towards the golden archway the sun still made of the cave entrance.  
  
The chimes were the loudest yet; Pilgrims battered body could not help but shake at their intensity, no amount of effort on his part could prevent him from turning towards the glowing ball of light that had led him so far from where he had started. Tears blurred his vision so that all he saw was the sapphire glow, no longer could he discern the shape of the globe; all he saw was blue.  
  
Wiping away the tears he saw the globe descending further into the tunnels.  
  
Pilgrim formed the words "**NO MORE**" in his mind, he framed the words in his mouth and started to shout them aloud.  
  
The spirit chimed its siren song.  
  
"**I will follow**," the words left his mouth swiftly followed by a sob of total despair. Every step was a whole new world of pain as he descended into the darkness, his only point of perspective a glowing blue light that would not let him turn away.  
  
Once more he lost track of time, distance and even reality. He could have walked for minutes, hours or days before the tunnel opened up into a vast cave that defied his comprehension.  
  
Once here he had to stop, simply because he could pursue the orb no longer. It had risen higher and higher into the air, beyond Pilgrims poor ability to follow. It stopped when it reached the height of five or six men stood on each others shoulders.  
  
Pilgrim dropped to his knees, all strength fled from his body, the blood loss and fatigue finally proving too much for his body to take. The globe above flared to greater and greater intensity even as Pilgrim's strength bled from him with every heartbeat.  
  
Pilgrim's vision was just about failing when he noticed the movement about him, crooked, twisted shapes were approaching from all sides. He tried to focus his sight on the new foe approaching him but just as he tried the globe spirit gave one more pulse and then died leaving Pilgrim in absolute darkness. Alone, except for the shuffling approach of death.  
  
The clatter of his spear dropping from his trembling hands barely registered on his conscious mind, the first stabbing pains as his attackers thrust weapons of bone were beneath his notice. All his mind could focus on were the chimes that still played in his mind.  
  
"**I will foll..**," he had no breath left to finish, nothing left to give the spirit that gave so much yet took so much more.


End file.
